Demigod
by Lionfire42
Summary: Private Jackson Darby had joined the Army to make a man of himself and a difference in the world. But the military guides had never told him what to do when an extra-terrestrial god gives him powers,or if he accidentally brings his motorcycle to life. Now it's up to Jack to end a millennium long war, and defeat the most dangerous warlord the galaxy has ever seen.
1. Prologue

He was dead. He knew that much.

It was funny. When he'd joined, the army hadn't seemed that bad. Even when they were sent into the war zones, even as he saw men and women die around him, the concept of dying had simply never occurred to him. Just point, shoot, follow orders, eat, sleep, repeat.

War numbed a person. He had been different from the other cadets. He'd only cried once from homesickness, and he never had the nightmares others talked about after seeing death for the first time. It looked like the kids at home were right, to an extent. He, Jackson Darby, was a freak.

But if he was a freak, then that meant he'd just died from a missile, or bomb, or bullet or something. It meant he _hadn't_ seen a firefight between a bunch of giant robots, _hadn't_ seen his comrades' flesh melt from lasers, and there _hadn't_ been some enormous bucket-headed metal behemoth destroy some weird glowing box that had gone off with the force of an atomic bomb.

Probably. Despite popular belief, he usually was quite sane. In fact, he considered himself to be a very rational person.

Therefore, rationally speaking, if he still retained his memories and conscience, then he was still him, meaning he was technically alive. Either that, or heaven forgot to pay the electric bill.

A peculiar sensation (he felt things, emotionally and intuitively speaking, which was further proof of his alive status) came over him, and began to have the sensation that someone, or thing was towering over him. He wished he could feel his limbs and move, but it wouldn't have done much good considering he couldn't even see.

_"Yes, some light would be preferred, little one."_

Of course he wouldn't be dead. he would just get the voices in his head. If he was some sort of vegetable now, he was going to be very ticked off.

_"Your memories indicate that despite a..._vegetable_ being organic, your species tend to eat them for the nutrients your omnivorous species requires."_

Considering he probably wasn't waking up soon, Jack decided to humor this voice that appeared to be a new extension of his conscience.

"Uh, yeah we eat them. But you should know that, right? I mean, you're me."

If haughtiness was a perfume, this new voice would have been cited for an extensive carbon footprint. _"_I_ am NOT _you_. I am the life-giver, the defeater of chaos itself."_

Jack began to realise that not only was he alive, but he appeared to be trapped in his mind with something that was the not comforting presense of himself, but a foreign being. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The crushing grief that rushed from the being nearly overwelmed the limbo-stuck soldier. After a moment, the voice composed itself. _"I was and am called many names by my people. In your tongue, however, I would be known as Primus. And fate has decreed that you, Jackson Darby, shall be my vessel."_

* * *

**The last time I checked, bunnies were herbivores. These plot bunnies ate all the carrots and leaves destined for Tick Tock, and then started on my brain.**

**So leave a comment please, on whether I should continue with story, or if I should focus all energy of Tick Tock.**


	2. Chapter 2

"So you're in my head?"

_"Yes."_

"And you just called me a vessel."

_"Yes."_

"And you're some god."

_"Yes."_

"I see."

_"You do not believe me."_

"I make it a point to avoid any religious ideals."

"_You dare question my power, organic_?"

"Kind of."

Primus's great displeasure rolled through Jack's mind. "Arg! That hurt!"

_"I am sorry."_ He didn't sound sorry at all.

Jack felt like yelling. "If I remain open-minded and assume that you are some type of god, then I would like some sort of reason why you decided to piggy-back on _my_ mind."

"_It was not by choice. Allow me to show you_."

* * *

And suddenly the darkness was gone.

Jack could see a brilliant sun, just rising over a new day behind the...giant , smoking metal buildings. He floated among them like a silent ghost.

"Huh?" he said intelligently.

"_This was Cybertron, the home of my children._" Though he could not move his body, Jack could sense Primus right by him, still immensely powerful, but toned down, almost like he was some regular person to talk to.  
_"And this was the day it's death was truly imminent."_

Down below, robots, who despite being dwarfed by the buildings, were still enormous, fought tooth and nail all around a large domed building. Blue liquid spurted from their bodies in waves and stained the metal ground. Wounded robots were trampled underfoot. Jack saw one robot struggling to drag himself away from the fray, for his legs were crushed and trailed wires soaked in the blue fluid. His efforts were in vain as a silver robot with an enormous cannon on his arms ejected a blade and stabbed the wounded warrior in the back. The warrior opened his mouth and raised his head to the sky in silent agony. The silver robot raised his head too, but in laughter at the soldiers helpless suffering. Withdrawing his blade, he stepped closer and raised his foot. Jack could only watch in horror as he crushed soldiers head into the slick ground, more blue fluid spurting out to join the lake that the warriors corpse lay in.

It was like watching a movie, only with larger comrades instead of the five or so that had been reduced to so much blood and flesh by this same robot.

_"And that,"_ Primus said softly,_"is the murderer. Megatron"_

Jack examined the robot named Megatron closely, a sense of rage growing as the silver robot cut down warrior after warrior, much as he'd stepped on those soldiers back in the desert. He had less scars that he'd had in the brief glimpse Jack had caught of him before he'd been sent to la-la-land with a body-jumping god. He was clearly the leader of the invading force trying to get into the building. It was a sinister looking army, most of them identical purple and black soldiers with glowing red visors covering their faces. Others were a wide assortment of colors. Some had yellow, white, or red eyes (or whatever they were called) that glowed menacingly.

"Who is he?" Jack asked. "I mean, what does he want?"

_"Me,"_ the god said, and his voice was full of terrible waeriness.

"But...why?"

The scene blurred and twisted, and Jack suddenly in a wide, spacious hall. It seemed to be some sort of temple, though the holy aspect was slightly ruined by the large group of robots that waited tensely inside, listening to the sounds of battle grow ever closer.

Jack's attention was redirected to two robots in an adjourning room. One was amber and white, looking over and adjusting a strange contraption. Jack recognized that look of intense concentration; the robot was a technician, or maybe a medic. The other was large, almost as big as Megatron, with a red and blue paint job. He was looking over the tech/medic's shoulder intensely. Every so often he gazed at the door, as if wishing he was out there.

Jack remembered both of these robots from when he'd been cowering behind an overturned Humvee. The red and blue one had been fighting Megatron, while the amber/white one had rush towards the crater that held the box...

...the box which was currently sitting atop the weird machine.

Jack put two and two together. "Wait. That's you?"

_"Yes."_

"In the box."

_"Yes."_

"You. A god."

_"Yes. Is that a problem?"_

"I kind of expected something bigger."

_"Large things come in small packages."_

"Uh-huh. That's my buddy's pick-up line to the ladies on a Saturday night."

_"Saturday?"_

"It's a day name. You know the seven days of the-never mind. What are they doing?"

It was the red and blue robot that answered that question. "Ratchet, how goes the machine?"

"It's a slow process, Ori-Optimus." The one apparantly called Ratchet answered without looking up.

"If Megatron gets his hands on the All-Spark-"

"I know!" Ratchet snapped, turning to face Optimus for the first time. They locked gazes for a moment before Ratchet exhaled heavily and turned back to the machine. "I know."

"Old friend." Optimus's voice was gentle. "Forgive me for my impundance. Do what you can with all your speed."

A rumbling thump eached throughout the building. The sounds of battle were still going on, but they were weaker now. All present understood why. The defenders outside had nearly been completely crushed.

A rising chant began, growing louder and louder by the minute. "Decpticons! Decepticons!"

The defenders in the building began to back away from the door. Many readied their weapons. The door thumped again. And again.

"They have a battering ram!" one robot in the crowd shouted.

"They can't get through. The doors are too strong," said another confidently.

As if they'd heard him, the thumping stopped. The shouts didn't though. In fact, they rose even more in volume. "DECEPTICONS! DECEPTICONS!"

In fact, the chanting was so loud, very few of the robots in the temple heard one scream a warning. But they found out a moment later.

With a deafening explosion, the temple's mighty doors were burnt and bent. They didn't collapse, but large holes allowed sunlight to stream through. A moment later, the thumping resumed.

"Get ready!" Optimus shouted. He ejected a mighty blade from his arm and stood in front of Ratchet.

"Almost done," Ratchet grunted. He was francally keying in codes.

Thump. The door creaked.

Thump. The door bent even more.

Thump. The final barricade across the door quivered.

Thu-BOOM.

The doors finally were forced open and Megatron and his troops rushed in. The silver behemoth snuffed out the lives of three warriors without breaking stride. His red gaze was locked on Optimus, Ratchet, and more importantly, Primus. Seeing his intent, several of Optimus's warriors lept in his path, knowing they had no chance against him, but allowing themselves to be slaughtered to buy Ratchet a bit of time.

Despite their efforts, Megatron still managed to reach the pair before his troops. He rushed towards Optimus, eyes wide, sword upraised. "The Allspark is _MINE_!"

Optimus parried his powerful blow, and they began to dance a jive of flashing blades and whirling colors. Megatron obviously had more experiance, but in his semi-crazy state, he was relying on his strength to defeat his adversary. This gave Optimus the chance to tag any Decepticons who tried to sneak past him to take out Ratchet.

Finally, Megatron smashed a tremendous blow on to Optimus's blade, stunning him. He formed a fist, and punched the red and blue bot in the face. The blow was powerful enough to send Optimus flying halfway across the room.

Megatron raised his arms. The sun was shining through a hole thaat had been blown in the directly onto his armor. "HA! I knew Primus could not have chosen a weakling like you to be a Prime, Orion. I never thought that you could be so dishonest as to take the Matrix when it had not chosen you. I knew you could have been chosen over ME!"

Unfortunately for Megatron, in his moment of gloating, he'd forgotten to stop Ratchet.

With a final code input, the machine began to glow and Primus/the Allspark was engulfed in light.

Megatron looked up in horror. "NOOOOOOO!"

He threw Ratchet out of the way and launched him towards the stand. But the box was gone, taken to the stars. With a scream of rage, Megatron fire several shots into the ceiling from his massive cannon, forcing more sunlight through. He lept up and transformed midair into a strange looking jet. The jet blasted it's way in the ceiling, chasing after the light.

* * *

And then it was dark again. Jack could sense Primus struggling with his emotions. After several moments he asked, somewhat tightly, "Any questions?"

"Oh, only a few hundred."

* * *

**Yeah, I know. I ended it horribly. But I'm tired of writing, and I want to post this.**

**Oh and for those who exprianced any confusion last chapter, I meant Stop the Clock, not Tick Tock.**

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

"What. The. Hell. Was. THAT?" exclaimed Jack, still within the depths of his mind.

"_That day on Cybertron, Optimus Prime, my chosen holder of the Matrix of Leadership, sent me into the stars, in order to keep Megatron from creating new sparklings under his control."_ Primus paused, then continued. _"The Allspark was but a hint of my essence. My essence resided within my children, the Matrix, and the planet itself."_

He gave a great sigh._ "Hundreds of my children were killed in Megatron's mad lust for power. Some of the Decepticons that remained became even more twisted, their sparks poisoned by Megatron's words, and in some cases, their bodies warped by his experiments. The Matrix still beats, though my power is considerably less so within it. The Matrix was meant to turn a bot into into a weapon, a fighter of justice and good. In human terms, the Matrix is simply a stimulant-"_

"Like steroids?" offered Jack, having calmed down a bit.

_"Err...yes, I suppose."_

"So this Matrix thing just gives a bot the power to change himself-while the Allspark gives the power to create."

_"Yes,"_ confirmed the god. _"But not just create. The energy of life is still energy; it is simply the greatest energy of them all."_

"'Energy is neither created or destroyed,'" quoted Jack, remembering his lessons from high school. "'It is simply turned into another sort of energy.' So Life energy can be turned into something like heat energy?"

_"Yes."_

"Wicked. But that still doesn't explain why you're in my head."

_"Cybertron was poisoned by Megatron meddling. His Decepticons farmed far more energon, the lifeblood of Cybertronians, than was being produced. The terrible acts of war, destruction, and death sickened me, and before long, no more energon could be produced on the surface, or under it. When the last of my children abandoned it, I too left it, and transferred my "conscience",if you will, to the Allspark.  
_

_"And I floated in the depths of space for a millenia, grieving the deaths of my children, and the death of Cybertron  
_

_"And one day, after years of loneliness, I was drawn forth into the gravity of your planet. Megatron and Optimus's teams must have both sensed me, as they came mere moments after I'd crashed."_

Jack remembered this. "You crashed in Iraq, right in front of us. We were going to investigate when all the robots showed up." He once again felt the grief of those terrifying moments, now that the danger had passed. "One of them, some spider girl, took two of my buddies captive. We ran in to help, but one of our Humvees got stepped on and another was blown up. My buddy Quickshot was on the one that got blown up. I hope Snipe survived."

"Snipe?"

"Quickshot's sister. She's a sniper. They were twins. If she survived, she's going to be crushed." He quickly returned to the topic at hand. "Okay, I know how you got here. What I want to know is why your here, with me."

Primus hesitated. "The years in space had begun to slowly sap my strength. Without the planet's continuous power to support me, I was slowly dying. The Matrix, the Allspark, my children- they were all appendages to me. Cybertron supported them all, and in turn supported me. Without it, I was nothing. Without a body, some sort of support system, I was nothing more than a mind, or perhaps a removed servo. I was rusting away, until-"

"-until you crashed on Earth," Jack said slowly. "And found me."

"Yes. Our meeting was quite forceful. When Megatron realized he could not take me, he decided to destroy me. And no doubt he would have, had a shard of the Allspark not have punctured your chest."

"Wait, what?" Jack went to feel for his chest only to remember that along not being able to see, he was unable to move. He growled in frustration.

"When the Allspark fragment hit you, I realized that this was my chance to survive. And thus, I scattered my fractured conscience into your fragment, and here I am."

"Ah." Jack said. "I see now. Now that you've gathered yourself all together, you can leave now."

"Two things, organic: One, I cannot. Now that I have a host, I have fully been integrated into everything from your mind to the cells of your body. And two, I believe it's time for you to wake up."

Jack could sense it too. Other sounds began to drift into the quiet that had been filled with their conversation, faint at first, but growing louder: a rustle of fabric, faint voices, and a beeping that he realized a second later was a heart monitor. I was also starting to get slightly lighter.

"This isn't over," Jack warned Primus.

Primus only chuckled, and then the world was full of blinding, light.

* * *

Jack blinked against the hospital lights that shone directly on his face. He was lying in a raised hospital bed with white sheets and wearing a light-as-air gown. He shifted slightly, and hissed as his skin screamed in protest. He looked at his arm and wasn't surprised to see it covered in what appeared to burn cream. His other hand had an IV needle attached to it, and their was a tube under his nose.

"Guardian!"

Jack looked over and grinned weakly at an enormous African-American man lying in the bed next to him. "Hey, Mace. How's it going?"

Henry "Mace" Williams chuckled darkly. "I'm not Mace anymore. I can't even wield a spoon."

Jack observed for the first time that Mace had no arms. "Mace, man..."

"Yeah." They both fell silent.

"Guardian?"

"Yeah?"

Mace's face was guarded. "Back in the desert...did you happen to see anything unusual? Like do you remember seeing big _things_ walking around, or..." he trailed off,looking embarrassed.

"Giant robots?"

"You saw them too?" Jack nodded.

"Damn." Mace stared in nothingness for a moment then angrily kicked his bed sheets. "Damn! I knew it! I knew I wasn't crazy. I wake up with sand in my mouth, ants in my arm sockets, and a bunch of robots running in some sort of portal, and bunch of guys in suits have the nerve to call me crazy?"

"Suits?" asked Jack, brow furrowed. "What suits?"

"Bunch of guys in suits started questioning the people who survived. Black suits, black shoes, sunglasses. Like Men in Black without the memory-erasing pens. Really annoying, started to play good cop, bad cop with me. Played it everybody. I heard Snipe punched one in the face-"

"Snipe's alive?" Jack interrupted. "Then, she knows about..."

"Yeah." Mace shook his head wearily. "Good old Quickshot. He didn't deserve to die like that." His face darkened. "No one deserves to die from something that they have no idea about. Missile, I can understand. Roadside bomb? Sure. But...robots?"

Jack started to respond, but was interrupted by the door opening. A few doctors walked in. Two went by Mace's bedside. "Mr. Williams, it's time for your check-up. The doctor want to look at those nerves again."

Mace nodded. "Cool." He looked at Jack. "Hey call me when you get home, okay."

Jack agreed, and watched as Mace was wheeled out of the room. A doctor began to check his vitals and all the numerous machines around his bedside.

"Mr. Darby?"

Jack looked up into the face a a portly, blue-suited man, with a bad haircut and a comical-looking tie.

The man introduced himself. "I'm Special agent William Fowler. I'd like to ask you some questions."

* * *

**And now we are integrated into Prime territory and not a worse Transformers movie remake.**

**Please Review!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

Fowler took a seat by Jack beside. "I'd like to ask you some questions about what happened in the desert last week-"

"Last week?" Jack interrupted. "How long have I been out?"

"Five days. You're lucky actually. Just some burns and a few broken ribs. Others...not so much."

Jack looked away.

Fowler started again. "Anyway, since half the people that were in your convoy are either dead or unconscious, I'd like to know the situation through your perspective."

"Not much you probably haven't already heard..."

* * *

_Jack leaned back in his seat, the hard helmet making his head itch something fierce. No matter how much the barber had attacked his head, his hair refused to stay away. After so many trips, the barber had gotten fed up and attacked the unruly mop with all his might. By the time he was done, jack's head gleamed under the light._

_Three weeks later, it had nearly completely grown back. Defeated, the barber told him to just get a bigger helmet.  
_

_Jack smiled to himself as he scanned the surroundings that whipped by, the fond memories not enough to completely stamp out the urge to keep himself alive. His senses buzzed, and he clutched his gun tighter. Something was coming, and would not be good.  
_

_Mace noticed his movement in the rear-view. "Ah, calm down Guardian. We got control of every camera in a two mile radius. The only thing we have to worry about is bombs, and a gun is not much use against those."  
_

_"Ay." Agreed Alroy "Cleaver" McDonald, an Irish man of equally large stature. "Nothing much good against them, that's for sure." Despite his words, he subconsciously seemed to share Jack nervousness, for he continued to stroke his small hatchet in his belt. This had been father's and no one had said anything abut it's presence, so he continued to carry it wherever he went. It was his lucky charm, he claimed. Perhaps it worked. He was alive, after all.  
_

_Mace turned fully around to look at backseat, ignoring the fact that he was supposed to keep his eyes on the road. "What do think, Vaccine?"  
_

_Leroy "Vaccine" Smith, an African-American and the youngest of them all, glared. "I think you turn around. I don't want to have to treat any more people today than necessary."  
_

_Mace grinned, turning back around to face the front. "Still sore from the 'talk' Snipe gave you?"  
_

_As a medic, Vaccine's nerves were the steadiest, and this also provided him with the best poker face. He gave no reply. His silence was all Mace needed, and he out laughing.  
_

_Despite his uneasiness, Jack laughed also. But as he once more cast his glance outside the window, his laughter faded. "What is that?"  
_

_Everyone's humor died away as they caught sight of what Jack had seen.  
_

_A small glowing meteor streaked across the sky, it's tail leaving a trail of smoke across the sky, the setting sun nearly hiding it from view.  
_

_The radio crackled. "You lot seeing what I'm seein?"  
_

_"Crystal," responded Mace, hastily turning the wheel and beginning to navigate the sandy trail their convoy started upon towards the object.  
_

_"Slowly," ordered their major. "We don't know what this is. I've already called for backup and satellite."  
_

_"Loud and clear," Mace responded grimly. He hung up the radio, and exhaled loudly. "Damn it, Guardian, why do always have to be right?"  
_

_Jack grunted in response.  
_

_They reached the crash site, and rushed out of the vehicle. Jack went straight up to the edge on the crater and peered in cautiously. Then he blinked, confused.  
_

_Cleaver was confused too. "Eh...is that a box?"  
_

_"Looks like it," responded the major. He thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, Everyone but Parkins and Williams get back in the trucks. We don't know what this thing is, and I don't any of us any closer than we need to be."  
_

_Mace snorted. "How come I'm the sacrifice?" he muttered, but went forward anyway. He and Parkins slid down the sloped walls of the crater and advanced toward the still smoking box cautiously.  
_

_And then all hell broke loose.  
_

_Two enormous bursts of light split the air, multicolored flares blinding all present. Jack closed his eyes and fell back, his main gun slipping from his fingers. He tried to scramble to his feet, but a thunderous shake of the ground caused him to collapse again. Was this some sort of earthquake? And then the ground shook again and again, in several different frequencies. Jack opened his burning eyes and realized that this was no earthquake.  
_

_They were footsteps.  
_

_Several enormous beings wrestled and fought, kicking up storms of of sand and dust. They yelled at each other in some type of high pitched language, their huge shadows blocking out the sun itself. All seemed focused on one area: around the crater.  
_

_Jack lurched to his feet, pulling out his sidearm. "Mace!" he yelled.  
_

_Cleaver and Vaccine grabbed him as he started forward. "No!" screamed Cleaver. "Run! Run!"  
_

_A high-pitched scream shattered the air. One of the giants had broken off from the main group and seized two soldiers. As it lifted them, Jack could see it's fangs glistening in the sunlight. It's yellow eyes looked almost...gleeful.  
_

_The major, seeing two of men captured roared, "Open fire!"  
_

_The troops did so, all trying not to hit their comrades. The bullets bounced off the giant with a sound like falling nails, and Jack realized these were not just any beings.  
_

_They were robots.  
_

_The robot hissed at their feeble attack and raised a single hand. It's palm glowed and a laser bolt erupted from it, striking a Humvee. Jack recognized one of the men inside as flames erupted.  
_

_"Quickshot," croaked Vaccine. "No.."  
_

_Another eruption rocked the earth near them, and they all fell forward. Jack's eyes drifted towards the crater, and he was overjoyed to Mace and Parkins struggling to scale the sloped walls to safety. Ignoring logic, he pushed himself to his feet once more and raced to help. He seized Mace's hand and Parkins' collar. "Come on!"  
_

_The sound of energy gathering caused them all to look up. A silver robot, it's red eyes glaring down at them, raised an enormous cannon on his arm at them. It's opening glowed purple, and Jack knew it was about to fire.  
_

_Mace and Parkins were frozen in shock. With a heave, Jack pulled them forward just as the robot fired.  
_

_The bolt of energy hit the box, and a wave on powerful blue energy emerged. Jack felt Mace and Parkins get ripped away from him and as the blue light engulfed him, everything went dark.  
_


	5. Chapter 5

Note: The bold italics are Jack's own thoughts. Regular italics are Primus's speak or another bot's thoughts.

* * *

"You said you saw...robots?"

Fowler's voice was cautious, bordering on skeptical. Jack felt himself flush. He should have edited his story, made himself sound less crazy...

And then he looked into Fowler's deep brown eyes. And for a single second, the man's seemingly confused face slipped.

He knew.

Jack knew to change his story now would be far too suspicious-or would it? He took a gamble.

He cast his eyes away and shifted in seemingly embarrassed discomfort. "Uh, yeah. I saw a bunch of robots." **_Carefully now._** He let a bit of hesittaion leak into his face, and kept his eyes turned away. "At least, it looked like some robots."

"Are you sure?" Fowler's voice was carefully neutral, nonjudging.

_**Now for the Shakesphere**. _"I-I don't know." Jack looked up. If Fowler was a good judge, he'd see the turmoil of emotions in Jack's eyes; it just wouldn't be for the completely right reason. "There was just these huge things, and my buddies...my buddies were just _gone_." _**Ooh, good voice crack.** _"I don't know." he hung his head, the picture of defeat. "I just don't know."

There was a pause, and then Fowler's hand gripped his shoulder. "It's okay, soldier." He took a deep breath. "All of the fallen's dogtags were recovered."

Jack nodded. The dogtags insured the families would get payment for their children's sacrifice.

"I've spoken to you superiors. They all agree you and the rest of the group need some time off. They're giving you all four month leaves."

Jack's eyes widened in genuine surprise.

"Though some will remain on leave indefineitly." Fowler countinued. Jack winced as he thought of Mace and his armless torso.

Fowler stood up. "Get some rest soldier. You'll need it."

Despite the well meaning, the words were shadowy.

* * *

Jack stumbled off the plane in the Las Vegas airport. He'd stayed in the hospital for only a week before leaving. The stark walls reminded him too much of the untouched sand that had been ravaged by the battle in the desert.

Funny considering the desert was his element.

The rented car was Hummer unfortunely, but he was too exhasted to request a different, less militeristic vehicle.

Jasper, Nevada was just as untoched as it had been all his life. It seemed as if the very desert was holding the party town of Vegas at bay.

The house was empty, as it had been since his mother passed. The lonliness was pressing, suffacating. He was too weary to like it, too weary to change it. He just wanted to sleep.

He lay on his bed with his clothes on. He was too tired to take them off. He was too tired to do anything. And yet, somehow, he was too tired to do nothing.

It was midnight, when he finally rolled himself off the bed, and went to the garage. Maybe a night ride would do him some good.

But as he was going to his bike, Primus stirred. "_What is that_?"

Jack frowned, "It's a bike."

"_No_, that."

Primus redirected his attention to a tarp covered object in the corner of the garage. Jack crossed over and pulled it off. Underneath was a beautiful, if a little beat up motorcycle.

It was a lovely indigo, with pink highlights. It had a tiny hint of rust near the back wheel, but other than that it was in good condition.

Jack remembered it. He used to ride it all the time, before he'd joined the army. It had been a gift from his mother for his sixteenth birthday. After he'd joined however, it had lost it's joy. The leaves had been spent with his mother, and when she died, he'd never retrieved the motivation.

"It's a motorcycle," he said simply.

Primus suddenly seemed busniss-like. "_An excellant canidate. Awaken it_."

"...canidate?"

"_For our army, yes_."

Jack sputtered in surprise, but the god wasn't taking no for an answer. "_Put your hand upon it_."

Jack was too flabergasted to refuse. He put his hand upon one of his motorcycle's handle bars.

"_Good. Now let me do the work_."

The heat that flooded through his body was warm, yet incrediblly intense. The motorcycle began to glow, brighter, and brighter, until it exploded in a blaze of light, and Jack's eyes snapped shut.

After a moment the glow faded. Jack released the handlebar and stumbled back. There was a moment of silence.

Then the sound of shifting metal filled the garage, and the motorcycle began to change.


	6. Chapter 6

It couldn't understand what was happening.

Out of nowhere, there was something. And then something else came that made it understand that something. It understood in a way what the thing was but it couldn't…couldn't…

And then something else came along, and there were things in its thing. _Head._ Yes, that was it. There were things in its head.

And at the same time, as it understood the prospect of _head_, it understood the things were _letters_. And those letters created things called _words_.

And the first thing had been _light_. And it had been _bright_, and it had taken away the _darkness_.

And the light had brought _knowledge_, as well as an _instinct_.

An instinct to _change_.

And changed it had.

It had changed, and things called _sensations_ filled it. There was _feeling_ in things that hadn't been there before, things called _arms_, and _hands_ and _fingers_, or _digits._ And then there were _knees_ and _torso _and _feet_.

And then its _eyelids_ split open, and its _optics _saw the _world_ beyond for the first time.

_Colors!_

They were beautiful things, these colors. If it had had any desire left to return to its darkness it was gone.

And now _vibrations_ began to _filter_ through to its _audio receptors_, and it understood that these were decoded into _sound_.

And it was just as beautiful as _color._

It's optics absorbing all the colors-_grey, paste, white, brown_-they began the go around the _area_ it was in, and they fell upon something taller right in front of it. Already fascinated, its attention was fixed due to the fact that the thing was _moving_.

It reached out a digit towards the thing hesitantly, wary and unsure because of its ability to move. If it could move, then it could _hurt_. And that would be bad.

The thing had _eyes_ and the eyes locked onto its. They were _blue_.

And then the thing, the _organic_, reached out a digit of its own-_tan_- and touched the tip of the fascinated it's.

And then it understood _touch_, and it caused _warmth_.

And this _warmth_ had to be the most beautiful thing of all.

And then the organic drew away, and it whimpered at the loss of warmth.

The organic's _throat convulsed_, and it spoke. "What is your name?"

_Name_? The words in its head whispered that it was something _sentient_ beings called themselves.

Was _it_ sentient?

Confused at the questions in its head, it shifted and two things at its back_-fins_- hit an _empty box_, and it _clattered_ to the _floor_. Its optics were drawn to it, and it had its answer. It pointed at the box.

The organic looked at it in confusion and said, "You name is Car?"

It shook it's head, and for the first time since the light came, it spoke. "R-C."

The organic looked from the box to it. "R-C?" it said slowly. "R-C." It's eyes seemed suddenly distant. "R-C. RC. Ar-cee. Arcee."

_Yes_, it thought. _I am Arcee_.

* * *

**Read and Review! Please!**


	7. Chapter 7

Jack felt his world, which he had managed to stubbornly keep from tilting by a thread, turn violently in the wrong direction. In a little more than three days, he'd lost half his unit, become a vessel for an extra-terrestrial god, and brought to life a motorcycle that he hadn't ridden in years.

And yet all he could do was watch in a strange fatherly delight as the newly-christened Arcee explored her surrounding with interest. She touched the shelves and examined every tool with a child-like awe. Her delicate yet strong blue…fingers touched everything from the light bulb on the ceiling to the dust on the floor.

_Attentive_, Primus said appreciatively. _The makings of a good scout._

Jack scowled. He didn't want that kind of thinking. The motorcycle was just a baby!

"What's your name?" Arcee asked. Her voice which had had a light, musical tinkle just moments before was now slightly deeper, more sophisticated. She was maturing rapidly.

So much for being a baby…

He cleared his throat. "I'm Jack."

Arcee leaned forward, examining him. "What are you?"

"I'm a human." He reached out and touched her arm. It was warm. Alive.

She shivered at him touch, before leaning closer, allowing the heat of his hand to spread over her arm. "A human. An organic." She pointed at herself. "I'm metal. Cybertronian."

_Hmm…_ Primus mused. _The knowledge imparted by me must be taking affect. I didn't think it would happen so quickly…_

"But you're still my brother," Arcee stated in a matter-a-fact tone.

In his head, Primus made a choking sound. To his credit, Jack didn't react negatively. Instead, he allowed a slow grin to spread across his face. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm your brother. Of course, most brothers don't bring their sisters into the world, but hey. Most siblings aren't two different species."

Arcee grunted, and Jack suddenly worried he was putting too much pressure on her. Then she shifted, and he realized the problem. Arcee was much smaller than the robots he'd seen in the desert, but she was still at least two stories tall. She was practically bent double now. The garage was two small for her.

He checked his watch. It was after midnight now, but he didn't feel tired. "Hey, Arcee? Want to go for a ride?"

* * *

Another day of work, another day of war.

Ratchet sighed as he reviewed the screens again; searching for any anomalies he'd missed patching up the troops.

Too say the humans were upset that there were casualties was an understatement. They were furious. The fact that the casualties had been innocent U.S. soldiers…Ratchet was surprised no one's head had exploded.

The president had addressed the issue herself, which spoke volumes. Optimus had spoken to her, and it was all diplomatic and courteous, but Ratchet could sense her anger, and the pain in her eyes showed she truly felt the deaths taken in desert just days ago.

Ironhide had objected to the cold shoulder. "What do ya, expect?" he'd growled, interrupting the leader's meeting. "It's a war, lady!"

And she'd fixed him with a gaze so cold, even he flinched. "Not ours."

And the All-Spark, the hope for their race was destroyed. The only possible way to continue and expand their ranks would be to purposely begin to try to spark one of the femmes. But both being two-wheelers, their small frames made it difficult for them to spark and carry a sparkling, not to mention Optimus refused to raise a child in a war.

Things had never seemed so bleak…

The beeping on the computer startled him, and he automatically checked it. The he checked it again. And again.

It couldn't be.

But it was.

"Optimus!"

His leader hurried out from within the silo depths, weapons drawn. "What is it, old friend? What's wrong?"

The words the medic spoke felt as miraculous as they had two days ago. "I'm getting a signal. An All-Spark signal."

* * *

It was a good thing no one really cared about what happened in Jasper. The police in town were either extremely aggressive out of boredom, or really didn't care about what happened, as long as no one died. Luckily for Arcee, the latter outnumbered the former, because had any aggressors been out, there would have been a road chase featuring a blue motorcycle clocking at over a hundred.

Primus was silent most of the ride. Jack had the feeling he was really ticked off that Arcee considered a human to be her sibling. He didn't see the problem. He'd always felt he should have had a little sister. His mother used to joke that if he'd had one, she'd never forgive him for not exactly making the boys feel welcome.

That wasn't to say he was physically intimidating. Rather, it was his biting, cynical attitude and cold, calculating, logical intelligence that made people either fear him or turn their noses to him.

He was just so _serious_.

He remembered prom night, remembered cleaning up in the house, making dinner, remembered putting out food for his mother, remembered as he kissed her cheek after her long day at work, and remembered seeing that glimmer of disappointment that he was still home, by himself. That he was a responsible adult. That he had no friends.

An old man in a young body.

But as he rode the desert highways, in the dark of night, Jackson Darby had never felt so young.

* * *

**Yes, Ironhide is in here. Yes, Chromia and Elita-1 are two-wheelers. No, they are not the stupid looking ones from the movie.**

**Reveiw!**


	8. Chapter 8

Arcee finally began to grow tired around three a.m. She stopped by a rocky outcrop about five miles away from town. There she transformed and stood staring at the sky in undisguised awe. Every few moments or so she would look down at Jack who sat on the desert floor and point to a star and ask him about it. And if he knew it he would tell her and if he did not he would simply shrug.

Primus broke the silence, at least in Jack's head. _She is interesting. Interesting indeed._

_**I know. I've been listening to her for the last three hours.**_

_No, I mean she is interesting not only in rapidly expanding intelligence, but because of her gender._

That startled the soldier. _**What?**_

_Females were never a part of my design. That is why it is strange that the first Cybertronian brought to life by my power is an anomaly._

…_**An anomaly?**_

_The concepts of reproduction never occurred to me or my children. They had no real need to 'mate' as long as I provided the sparks. They created the shell, I created life._

_**So how…?**_

_As my children began to explore the stars, they gained knowledge of other races, particularly _organic_ races. One, a scientist, saw that organics usually had what was called gender, something that often split their society. Deciding that Cybertron could use more…variety, he poisoned me, causing me occasionally develop sparks that had a more _feminine_ personality. Understand that this caused some awkwardness, as my children really had no idea how to create different bodies for the mechs that were often more sensitive and more intelligent than they were._

Jack released a bark of laughter. Arcee looked at him curiously, and he pointed at his head and mouthed 'Primus'. Understanding, she turned back to the stars. Jack resumed him conversation. _**So girls were a mistake?**_

_Yes. Many more conservative bots tried to reverse the damage but to no avail._

Jack hesitated then took the plunge._** Look, man, I'm all for bring motorcycle to life, but…what exactly do you want me to do with them?**_

_We will build an army, defeat Megatron, and ensure that my children continue thrive on this new world._

_**Heck of a grocery list. Why can't we just give more power to Prime? Isn't he your chosen one?**_

_The role of a Prime was to defend Cybertron from evil, both from above and within. But now, though he remains a mighty warrior, Optimus Prime represents the old guard. He leads weary and battle-scarred warriors. If he did defeat Megatron, one of the Warlord's followers will ignite the war again, simply because their master was defeated by an Autobot._

_**You need fresh blood, **_Jack realized. _**You want another group to end the war so all the bitterness won't start it up again.**_

If Primus could nod, he would be doing so with gusto. _Exactly. It is time the torchof the Primes be carried on to a new warrior. A new species. Humanity._

_**So you expect a bunch of humans to do what giant robots couldn't do for hundreds of years?**_

_Not just any humans. Soldiers. Civilians. My new children. All infused with the power of my essence. _

_**You're nuts.**_

_I'm determined._

Arcee suddenly gave a strange sound and turned towards the highway. She stood there listening to something Jack could not hear.

_Optimus Prime. He comes. The Autobots must have gotten a signal of my power. And if they received a signal…_

"The Decepticons," Jack breathed.

_We must flee._

"On it," he muttered. "Arcee," he called, but it was unnessary. Arcee had already transformed and was ready to go.

Swinging on to her, Jack thought it lucky he'd decided to take his credit cards with him. He had a feeling they were in for a road trip.

"Where to, chief?" Arcee quipped.

"Texas," Jack responded as they sped down the road. "There's a friend I have to see." _**You want your army, Primus? I have some people in mind.**_

_Good. When we have gathered them, there are some important items we need to find. Our warriors cannot go into battle without the proper tools._

* * *

Optimus felt his spark clench as the signal began to grow farther away instead of closer. _We cannot lose a lead on the All-Spark!_

But they did, no matter how fast they went.

Optimus transformed and stood in the middle of the human highway, the alien stars above casting their cold light upon his frame. His warriors gathered behind him, all silent, all understanding the true agony of what had happened.

_We are lost,_ Optimus thought. _We are truly alone._

* * *

Jack groaned as he stretched his legs in the military hospital lot, where he'd been only days before. Riding for hundreds of miles on top of a big metal bike, and sleeping in uncomfortable motels wasn't how he'd envisioned being the head of an army would be.

_**You sure this will work?**_

_Yes, _responded Primus irritably. Jack couldn't blame him, as he'd questioned the god continuously after he'd revealed his plan. _I will work for you too after I have been completely integrated into your cells. You're friend's will simply be of a lesser degree._

Jack decided not comment on the cells and focused himself on helping his buddy. He didn't want to jinx his plan, not now.

* * *

Henry "Mace" Williams was bored. The dull phantom ache where his arms had been nagged day and night. He felt like a shadow, dull, faceless, and fading fast. His friends were either still unconscious or discharged. And now he was permanently assured to never have a solid girlfriend. How could he? Even the nurses and doctors looked faintly nauseated every time they saw him.

It wasn't fair...

"Sir?" A nurse interrupted his sulking. "You have a visitor. He says his name is Darby."

Mace felt a flicker of hope. Guardian was here? Just when he felt his lowest, his buddy lived up to his name.

Guardian walked in, his eyes betraying no emotion. He turned to the nurse. "Will you leave us?" She nodded and left, closing the door behind her.

Guardian turned to him, all business. "Remember the robots in the desert?"

"How can I forget?"

"I have quite the story to tell you."

And he did. Mace couldn't believe it. A god? An army? But he looked at Guardian and saw that there was only deadly seriousness in his eyes.

"Dude," he said after Guardian had finished his story. "Even if all this was real, even if I wanted to help-"

"I think I can do something about that," Jack interjected. He leaned forward, placing his hands on Mace's shoulders.

"What are you-" Mace began, but stopped as a warm felling spread throughout his body. It felt like light. It felt like life.

Before his eyes, a metallic liquid leaked from his stumps, twisting and solidifying, forming nerves, muscle, arms and hands. It was silver, and when Guardian removed his hands, Mace flexed his new limbs in wonder. They moved smoothly, without effort, just like his old ones. He reached out and touched a bed rail. He could feel it!

"Protoform skin," Guardian answered Mace's unspoken question. "This is the actual robot's skin. What we saw in the desert was just armor. We'll have to get you some. That is, if you want to join me."

Mace looked him dead in the eye. "Guardian... I'm with you all the way."

"Good." Guardian grinned. "We have some more people to pick up, but not before we get you a partner."

* * *

**Review Please! And please check out my new forum. It called the Transformers Coalition of Open-Minded Writers. Let's stop cyber-bullying!**


	9. Chapter 9

The car show was in Texas that year, and Mace knew about a car he really wanted to have. When Jack asked him about his car at home, Mace scoffed, "It's a _Prius_, man. A _Prius_."

It was about eleven when they pulled in towards the field where the car show was located. They dismounted Arcee (Mace had freaked out when she'd talked to him; he still kept casting her wary looks) and crept towards the fence. That's when Jack realized something: how the heck were going to get in?

"Use your god powers," whispered Mace.

"God powers, "Jack repeated incredulously.

"Fine, demigod powers. Just do it!"

Jack concentrated on the power that flowed from his chest, which was slowly spreading through his body every minute. Primus gave a helping hand as well, coaxing more control into the flow. The power was tremendous, but he didn't want to blow up a building. He just wanted to cut a bit of power…

WHUMP!

The entire field, illuminated by bright floodlights, went black. The stars were not shining and it was a cloudy night. Therefore, it was like tar, the darkness clamping on and not letting go no matter how hard you screamed.

And screamed people did. Jack felt like his ears were bursting. Oops.

"Come on!" Mace seized his arm with his new hands, which frankly felt like a vice. "I saw the car before the lights blew! Over here!"

The jumped the fence and fought against the onslaught of people crying out and stopping to increase brightness on their cell phones and generally doing whatever they could to get away from the mass of other people doing the exact same thing.

"Why exactly," Jack grunted as he struggled to keep hold of the back of Mace's borrowed jacket (Mace insisted it was borrowed; Jack knew there was no way they were getting it back to the coat room where they'd stolen Dr. J. Richards tweed. It was hard enough sneaking Mace out; there was no way they were going to walk back in. Especially since there were probably people looking for them both. One doesn't just walk out of a hospital room with no arms.) "Did we have to come here?"

"If you're going to start an army, then you're to need this beast in the arsenal. Besides, you said I could pick one."

"I thought we'd maybe jack a pick-up off the street or something! Not walk into a car show and waltz one out!"

Jack had the feeling Mace was grinning. "Details, details."

Suddenly Mace stopped. "I think-yes! This is it!"

"What is it?"

Mace's voice was dripping in awe and general car-love." The new Conquest EVADE." He sniffed. "It's beautiful."

"You can't even see!"

"Internet. Now get it open."

In his head, Primus grumbled about having his powers used for common errands but Jack ignored him and concentrated. With a rumble, the car started and the door popped open.

"Hey!" a voice barked. Even over the entire din, the engine had attracted some attention.

"Time to go," Mace declared.

"You think?"

As they climbed in, Jack felt the sides of the door. "What's a military car doing here?"

"That the beauty of this thing." Mace settled himself in the front seat, ignoring the flashlight-wielding guards rushing towards them. "Looks and feel like military, but is actually for civilian use."

"Must cost a fortune."

"Yep. Just under 600k."

Mace flipped on the headlights, blinding several people. With a practiced ease that could only come from driving over rough terrain constantly, he hit the gas and swerved around several people. Some oddly stubborn people stood in the car's path, their eyes full of annoyed confusion. When they realized that Mace would probably run them over if they didn't feel like moving, they scrambled out of the way.

"Easy as pie," Mace whooped.

Then the sound of a helicopter stood out over the noise, and all levity disappeared.

Mace swore violently. Jack groaned. "We need to get that off our tails."

Mace pressed the gas to the floor. "I'm open to suggestions."

Jack opened his window, and yelled out into the night. "Arcee!"

After a moment, a rider-less blue motorcycle pulled up, easily keeping pace with the speeding vehicle.

Jack thumbed towards the helicopter. "Do you have any type of neutralizer on you? Something that can take that thing down with as little possible damage. We don't want to-"

The cabin of the car was suddenly bathed with light. A moment later, gunfire started.

"Whose security team is this?!" bellowed Mace

"-hurt people," Jack finished, somewhat lamely.

"We _do_n't?" questioned Arcee

"Yeah, we don't?" Mace echoed.

Jack groaned. "Just get rid of it, please."

Arcee was silent for a moment as they hit the highway, the green field giving way to dust and blacktop. "How about a gun?"

"Do it."  
Arcee fell back and the sound of a transformation was heard. There was flash of blue light, and Jack looked into the rearview in time to the helicopter struggling to land with its tail on fire. A second later, Arcee was running beside the car. "Did you see that?" She asked excitedly. "Bulls-eye!"

Mace raised an eyebrow at Jack. "Bulls-eye?"

Jack shrugged, and then shouted out the window: "Great job! But you need to transform! And can you something about the fact that it looks like there's nobody riding you?"

Arcee transformed again, wheels screeching along the blacktop. A moment later, a humanoid figure flickered into existence, hugging her sides with expert ease. It appeared to be female, and wore a body-length black-grey suit with a black tinted helmet and visor. Mace wolf-whistled and Jack glared at him. "Dude, that's my sister."

"So? That hologram still looks hot."

Jack groaned as they rolled down the highway. His head was starting to hurt. "I'm stuck with children."

_How do think_ I _feel?_

_**Shut up.**_

* * *

"My lord?"

Megatron turned towards one of his identical purple-and-black troops. "What is it?"

"It appears there was an All-spark signal a few moments ago?"

"Again?" That was the second detected in a few days. The first one had been brief but powerful. Unfortunately, Soundwave was unable to get a lock on it. _The All-Spark has once again slipped through my fingers. Not this time though._ "Where?"

The troop hesitated. "It appears that the signal went off for a moment at these coordinates in Texas."

Megatron stared. "Where?"

"Texas, sir."

The Warlord scowled. "What in the Pit is a texas?"

"It's a human name for a large area of land in the southern region of America."

Megatron groaned. This was a troop who'd been created on their time of conquest for this planet. There were very few Cybertronian-born officers; most were created around this infernal speck of dust and thus learned through the dominant species. If his language processor hadn't been calibrated for this, he'd gut the officer here and now out of annoyance. It was times like these he'd wished he'd insisted all troopers have a Cybertronian-language base.

Fed up, Megatron just snapped, "Give me the coordinates."

"Sir, the signal is gone. It was only-"

"I do not care!" the silver bot bellowed. "I will not allow the All-spark to escape me again!"

The troop cowered and sputtered apologies, but Megatron ignored him. He turned to his loyal Third instead. "Set the ship on course towards those coordinates. We will find the All-Spark, or what's left of it, even if I have to crush hundreds of Autobots or humans to do it!"

* * *

**Reveiw!**


	10. Chapter 10

Mace shifted eagerly. "Now what?"

Jack stretched and yawned. They were in the middle of nowhere, and Mace had been hopping around like a puppy that had to use the bathroom, ready to create a partner of his own. Jack for one had been hoping for some shut-eye, but it didn't seem like that would be happening anytime soon.

"Alright, alright already." Jack pushed past Mace to touch the Evade's hood. _**Ready?**_

_Of course_, Primus scoffed. _But perhaps if your friend wants a deeper partnership, he should be part of it as well._

Jack listened to the god's instructions before turning to Mace. "Put your hand on the hood." Mace complied without question. Jack put his hand over his friend's silver one, and felt the power flow.

The Evade glowed and flashed, illuminating the desert around them. Jack pulled Mace away as the glow faded.

And just in time.

The Evade exploded in a mass of shifting gears. Black arms and legs were formed, thick and boxy. It's hood shifted down, forming a torso with the grill in the front. The last two noticeable features were the back door turned narrow shield it carried on it's left arm, and the fact that where it's right servo should have been, there was an enormous metal ball covered in short spikes.

"Whoa…" breathed Mace.

The mech's blue optics widened at the voice at its feet and it jumped back in fright, practically tripping over its large feet. It shield folded up neatly, becoming almost invisible in it's arm's bulk.

"Hey, hey! It's okay." Mace's voice was uncharacteristically gentle.

The mech leaned forward, its fear replaced with a child-like curiosity that reminded Jack of Arcee's creation.

Mace reached out a hand. "Hey, buddy. I'm Henry, but you can call me Mace." He gestured to where Jack and Arcee stood, bemused. "That knuckle-head there is Jack, but he prefers Guardian."

Jack scowled. "I do not."

Mace ignored him. "And the chick is Arcee."

Arcee looked at him indignantly. "_Chick_?"

The mech repeated slowly. "Mace. Guardian. Arcee."

Mace grinned. "What's your name?"

The mech's metallic brow furrowed as he thought. As it was, the decision was decided for him. A tired bird, think the large mass in the road was an excellent rest stand landed on Mace's new partner and squawked.

The mech shrieked and jumped. The bird flew off, shrieking as well. The mech turn after it, its right arm coming up as if he intended to punch it.

The giant spiked sphere flew off, connected to the mech arm by a thick chain. It hit the bird dead on and sent the poor creature flying through the air-but not by its own power.

There was silence as Mace, Jack, and Arcee stared wide-eyed as the spiked sphere quickly retracted and returned to its place on the mech's arm.

After a moment the mech turn back to the group and slowly grinned. Pointing a digit at Mace, he said slowly, triumphantly: "You…are Mace. I…am Flail."

* * *

**Not a lot, I know. Forgive me, my readers.**

**As you can tell, it is not Bulkhead. Bulkhead, Ratchet, and Bumblebee will already be members of Prime's team in this story. I don't plan on putting Smokescreeen in this story because it was already thought out in my head, and it would be odd trying to fit him in. But you never know.**

**Now would be a good time to tell you that there will be a lot of O.C.s in this story. We still have to get through at least four more, and this is just the first story of this plotline I hope to write.**


	11. Chapter 11

Jack groaned, eyelids fluttering. Light seared his retinas, and he cried out, the dusty air stealing what little moisture remained in his mouth.

"He's awake!" a voice crowed, and Arcee's blue and silver head appeared above him, gratefully blocking the light.

Jack tried to speak, but what came out was a painful cough.

"Here you go." Arcee delicately pushed a bottle of water against his lips and Jack gulped the sweet liquid gleefully.

Mace appeared on Jack's left. "Our little demigod's awake!"

Jack scowled at him. Noticing this, Mace grinned. "Do you remember what happened, man?"

Jack racked his mind as he drank. Nothing stood out. "No."

"You collapsed. We were looking over my new buddy, and your eyes just sort of rolled back and you fell on your face."

"What?" Jack sat up, and then hissed in pain as his body protested.

"Careful there." The deep voice of their newest member vibrated through the air. Though he couldn't see him, he could hear the subtle shifts of limbs and the whirring of his internal workings.

In fact, he could hear a lot of things. Birds cawing outside, the whistle of wind against the building, the hum of the bots sparks, the beat of his and Mace's heart, the clicking of termites and ants moving through the woodwork…

Jack sat up, ignoring the pain that flashed through his body. "What happened?" he demanded flatly.

"Well…"

"See…what happened was…"

_I can explain it._

Jack flinched as Primus's voice rang through his head. It was more powerful, clearer now.

_I have fully integrated into your body. As a result, your body has become more like that of a Prime._

_**What?**_ Jack heaved himself of the dusty, moldy mattress he lay on, and crossed the dim room to the shattered mirror leaning against the wall.

Even though little light shone through hole I the wall, Jack could see immediately that he had changed.

His once lean body now bulged with muscles, so much that Jack was surprised he could walk. His hands were more than three times bigger than they had been before; his feet as well. His five eight frame was gone completely. In it's place was a body builder over seven feet tall.

And that wasn't all that had changed. His jaw was hard and square; Jack grinned experimentally and recoiled at his glowing white, straight teeth. His hair had grown to his shoulders, and shone with invisible light.

And the most prominent feature of all: his eyes glowed blue like the bots optics.

That wasn't all that glowed. Jack stared in wonder at the faint glowing strip that a scar on his arm had become. All his scars were illuminated.

"Well?" Arcee questioned anxiously.

Jack took a deep breath-and grinned. "Wicked."

* * *

Optimus felt unease settle I his spark. The voices of the Primes seemed more quiet than usual, and the loss of the All-spark was a heavy blow to the faith of his troops. Then there was the news that the Decepticons had attacked and killed several people at a car show in Texas. They were getting more bold, and the humans were getting more angry. They wanted the war over and soon, as Fowler put bluntly.

"This war cannot be settled in day," barked Ratchet. "It claimed our world for a thousand years."

"Don't you think I know that?" Fowler shot back before running a weary hand through his hair. He looked haggard and his clothes were slightly rumpled. "I know it, the Prez knows it. She's trying to advocate for you lot, despite Rhino's smart-talk." He glared at Ironhide. "But it's hard. Military deaths were hard enough, but civilians? That opened a whole new can of worms."

"We are sorry for the loss of life, Agent Fowler." Optimus strode forward, his eyes full of quiet anger towards the carelessness and disregard the Decepticons had towards life. "We do all we can. But you know as well as I our numbers our limited."

Fowler sighed. "The big guys want this over soon. We don't want your battle spilling out into our streets. If you can't contain it, then the Pentagon will get involved."

The scout Bumblebee chirped something. His Wreaker friend Bulkhead nodded in agreement then translated for the government agent. "If we can barely hold them back, what makes you think you can?"

"We may be small, Two-Ton," defended Fowler. "But we're adaptive. If ants can bring down jaguars, we can bring down you guys." He leaned forward, bloated gut pressing against the platform railing. "I know what you've said before about handing over Cybertronian technology, but you guys don't have the resources to develop multiple weapons capable of independent movement and targeting. We do. Just not giant ones."

"But no doubt you possess the mean to create _miniature_ ones for your own troops," Ratchet bitterly responded.

Fowler ignored his tone, continuing to address Optimus. "Sooner or later Prime, you'll have to face facts. How long 'till one of your warriors can't be fixed? And blue clouds of exploding mines have been caught on camera more than once. The Cons keep blowing them up, and some random hiker gets it on camera. If it's a smart hiker, or worse, a scientist, how long will it be before they decide to take a look? How long before energon becomes some rare mineral hunted by not only Buckethead's goons, but earth enthusiasts? Let us help, Prime. It's _our_ planet."

"You already know my answer, Agent Fowler."

Fowler sighed and rubbed his eyes. "This war must end, Prime. The Pentagon is thinking of removing the main problem, should it get too bad."

"The main problem?"

"Energon is why this war is here. Take away the fuel, take away the problem."

Ratchet staggered back, flabbergasted. "You would do that?" he whispered hoarsely. "You would condemn us to death?"

Fowler turned to leave. "_I_ wouldn't. My bosses would. I can't hop in a portal and leave the country. I'm honor-bound."

"You're a coward," Ironhide snarled. "We can't just end the war in a year or ten!"

Fowler looked at him evenly as the elevator doors began to close. "If I were you, I'd try."

* * *

Jack stretched his muscles as the desert sun beat down on him, though there was little need. The soreness was almost completely gone. He walked around the abandoned barn they'd put him in, mindlessly watching the bird fly around it. His foot nudged a rock, and he idly thought about throwing it, but decided against it. If he didn't pinch it into powder, he might hurt someone.

Apparently, a Prime's strength came with the package of a new body. He'd discovered this when he'd leaned his hand against an old tractor, and sent it flipping through the wall and a block away from the barn.

A thunderous sound came from around the side of the building and Jack felt the faint tremors of shifting earth. Rushing around the side in the blink of an eye (speed came with strength, he'd been pleased to discover) and blinked at the activity his friends were currently engaged with.

Apparently, his ragtag beginnings of an army had started a jumping contest, and judging by the stunned, upward-facing faceplates of Arcee and Flail, Mace had been declared the winner. Jack looked up as well, squinting against the light. At first there was nothing more than a speck, which then grew larger and larger before the frame of Mace became apparent. To Jack's alarm, Mace had his fists pointed to the ground and was descending far too quickly than it seemed possible for one to survive.

Before Jack could speak, Mace hit the ground and a more powerful shockwave became evident in a halo of dust. The ground buckled, and cracks spreading over the dry earth like a shattered mirror.

Twisting his body up with more flexibility than his frame suggested, Mace landed outside his second crater with bent knees, grinning like a kid at Christmas.

"That," Flail rumbled. "was freaking awesome!"

_Human terms_, Primus grumbled. _Already?_

Mace bounded on his toes and laughed. "Try it Guardian! It's amazing!"

Jack sighed but squatted down like an oversized frog. The power still ran undiluted in his veins. His muscles sang of the desire to use their new strength.

His launched himself up, and the earth fell away from him as if he was attached to an enormous balloon. The air quickly grew colder and the sense of gravity grew less and he felt almost weightless.

At about fifteen hundred feet, he lazily began to fall before gaining speed, the icy air stinging his eyes and growing warmer by the second.

He hit the earth feet first, pounding an even larger crater than Mace's into the earth.

He slowly climbed out of the hole and stood at the edge, staring down. He was stunned and, in a way, fearful of what he'd become. Plus, the crater reminded him of the last time he'd been in battle, back when he met Primus. The pang of loss clenched his gut once more, and he remembered him mission.

Shaking his head, he turned to the others. "Alright, play time's over. I'm feeling better, and we still have some recruits to find. Let's roll out!"

* * *

**I figured that Jack's strength follows the ant factor. Ant's lift weights that, should the same ratios apply for humans, would shock us. So I took some liberties and established it so that since someone like Jack has the strength of someone like Optimus, Jack's strength would actually be more, since there's less mass and surface area.**

**And seriously, didn't anyone find it odd that Megatron managed to leap impossibly high back in the One Shall Rise trilogy after he defeated the first Unicron clone? Aren't these people affected by gravity at all? I mean I know their powerful robots, but doesn't that mean they're just really big people? The only one that has any type of power at all is Optimus. Which, you'd think would mean he'd on more equal paring with Megatron. But time and time again, they have Optimus get his aft kicked unless he's angry, has some super-weapon, or manages to take Megatron by surprise.**

**And Youtube has officially ticked me off. It's funny how everyone disses Facebook and Twitter for having pointless comments on them, but no one says anything about Youtube. The simplest conversation about characters can turn into a word fight about two people's mothers, sexuality, beliefs, intelligence, their mother's mothers…**

**And if you try to have two people make peace? Forget about it.**

**These are just the pointless gripes and rambles of Lionfire42. Thank you for reading and please review.**


	12. Chapter 12

Leroy "Vaccine" Smith groaned as the alarm at his bedside shrieked. The noise drilled into his brained, sending sharp lances of pain to his alcohol-addled mind. An unpleasant smell hit his nose and his medical mind recognized it as vomit. His hand hit a cold puddle that soaked his bed sheets. He grimaced. Make that cold vomit.

With a sigh, Leroy's feet hit the cold wooden floor. He rubbed his face and opened his eyes-or rather, his eye. The right eye still moved, its brown pupil roving. The other was covered over with thick gauze. Grunting he staggered to the bathroom and took out a couple of aspirin to relive the pain in his head and eye socket.

Shrapnel was a medic's worse nightmare, he recalled grimly. It was usually tiny and easily overlooked. But those shards tore vital arteries, attached themselves to muscles and nerves, ripped apart delicate organs and caused horrible infections. And one never saw it coming. He hadn't.

Everything had been fine, he thought. He'd been racked with worry and guilt over his friend's injuries, thought it a miracle he'd remained unscathed.

Two days later, as he woke on the day he was supposed to be released from the army hospital, he hadn't been able to see out of his left eye that well. Everything was kind of blurry, and his eye hurt.

The test results devastated him. Damage to nerves. Infection. Eye removal to save his life.

And here he was now. Two and a half weeks later, in his Missouri apartment, bitter at the world.

He hated him life.

"What's left?" he voiced aloud. No one answered him now. They hadn't answered him then.

A beer bottle shattered against the wall, amber liquid spilling down the oil-stained paint.

"WHAT"S LEFT?!"

This time something responded.

_Ding-dong_.

* * *

Jack and Mace stood outside their friend's apartment. The building was run-down, to say the least. Most apartments seemed abandoned; the rest had an unsettling amount of locks.

"Vaccine lives here?" Mace could not believe that their skinny genius friend lived in such a place.

"Might explain why he joined up." Jack reached for the button to ring the bell again.

The door opened suddenly, and with it came the smell of unwashed clothes and stale food. Vaccine's face appeared, bloodshot eyes and unshaven face making him look far different from the orderly medic both men knew.

"Darby? Williams? Wha-?"

"Can we come in," Jack interrupted. "It's important."

Vaccine's eyebrows narrowed. "How important?"

Mace smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

* * *

Arcee sighed contently as the gentle breeze washed over her frame like caressing fingers. It was still early and few people were out, making it relatively quiet.

Flail gasped suddenly, forcing the two-wheeler out of her content. "Do you sense that?"

Arcee understood immediately what he was talking about. Ever since her awakening, she felt certain things within her spark. She felt warm and happy when she was with her human brother and his friend, as well as when she was with her metal brother. She felt protective when shady-looking people turned their attention towards them. And now she felt the sense of danger, and as she looked around with her mirrors, it appeared to be arriving in the form of a flashy red sports car.

"Flail," Arcee whispered urgently. "Don't-" But it was too late.

Flail transformed and stepped into the road, blocking the path of the sports car. Baring his flail and shield he snarled at the car. "Halt!"

Rather than stopping, the car went faster before transforming into a devilish-looking mech with a white faceplate and red optics. Ducking Flail's wild swing, he whipped out a long staff and jabbed it into Flail's neck cables. Electricity sparked and Flail dropped like a stone, limbs jerking.

Ignoring, the screaming humans running away, the mech placed a pede on Flail's back as Arcee watched stunned. "Well," he purred in a rumbling sophisticated tone. "What have we here?"

Arcee snapped out of her daze and transformed, firing a quick shot towards the strange mech.

He leaned out of the way almost casually. "Well, someone's fiery. And a femme, no doubt!" He put his servos on his hips and swayed in a way that he no doubt thought to be sexy. "The name's Knockout. Never seen _you_ around these parts. Though had I seen you before, I doubt your looks wouldn't be any less beautiful. What's your name, baby?"

"Doesn't matter!" Flail rose suddenly like a black wave sending Knockout sprawling. When the red mech scrambled to his pedes, he was met with the powerful spiked black sphere to his face.

Knockout shrieked as his digits fluttered over his faceplate, now scratched. The scratches were shallow but Knockout was livid. "My face! My beautiful face!" He deployed a rotary-saw, his optics now empty of the teasing lust he'd exhibited. "You don't have a mark meaning you must be a neutral. Well, my lord won't mind if you're missing a few-argh!"

Arcee kicked him in the chest and sent skidding back, knocking over a slim tree. He started to get up, but the distant sound of sirens reached all of their audio receptors at the same time. Knockout froze, and then snarled. "We'll finish this later, neutrals."

Transforming, the mech sped away.

"Well, Guardian. Looks like you weren't kidding."

Arcee and Flail turned and looked down sheepishly at their humans. Jack and Mace stood with another human, a lean one with skin even darker than Mace. The bot's attention was caught by the mechanical eye that roved and moved almost on its own accord. When it landed on the pair, glowing veins on the side of the man's head glowed brighter and a holographic projection emerged from the corner of his regular eye like a square monocle, allowing him to see a stream of data.

Seemingly satisfied at what he saw, the man turned smirking to his fellow soldiers. "Nice. Where can I get one?"

* * *

**If you want a better description of Vaccine's eye, reference Heimdall from _Too Human_.**

**Review Please! **


	13. Chapter 13

The helicopter dispatchers had received urgent word: someone had lost their way in the Florida swamps. Not only that, one of the passengers had been cut up by a backfiring rotor, grievously wounding him. Help was needed.

Three medics scanned the wetlands of Florida, searching for the owners of the SOS.

"Down there!"

Two men were in a fishing boat, waving their arms frantically. A third lay on the bottom of the boat, unmoving.

A medic quickly rappelled down with a stretcher. A moment passed. Then two.

"Pilot to Johnson. You okay down there?"

No answer. The second medic tried his luck. "Rumbly to Johnson. You okay?"

This time there was an answer. "Johnson here. Just trying to calm down the passengers."

Rumbly looked down. Johnson was talking to the calmed passengers. "Okay, then."

A moment later, Johnson's com crackled. "Coming up."

Pilot responded, "Copy that."

Rumbly looked over to help Johnson navigate the stretcher. But as he looked out, he realized two things:

Johnson-now helmetless-was the one in the stretcher.

The man wearing his helmet had on civilian clothing and was far thinner than Johnson. In fact, he was the one who lay immobile on the bottom of the boat moments before.

Rumbly whipped around to Pilot. "Stop that stretcher!"

"What?"

"I said stop-urk!"

Rumbly felt himself lifted up and then the air was rushing past him. He gasped as he hit murky water then coughed as some of it got into his throat. A second splash told him the pilot had been tossed into the drink as well. Before he could begin to swim for the surface, a powerful arm coved in what appeared to be silver paint seized him by the collar and dragged him aboard the small boat.

Coughing violently, Rumbly looked up in time to catch a powerful fist to the face. Everything turned upside down in a blur of color before a blissful blackness overtook him.

* * *

"I don't believe this," grumbled Jack. "We're supposed to be _heroes_."

"Ah, calm down Guardian." Mace reclined in the co-pilot's seat. "We left the SOS signal on those guys didn't we?"

"Yeah," Jack scowled. "But we also stole a helicopter. Why couldn't you pick a nice ground partner, like the rest of us?" he directed this last part to Vaccine in the pilots chair.

"Because if you want an army, you're going to need all types of advantages," the medic responded calmly. "From the information you've received from this Primus, a large part of the reason the Autobots lost so many battles was because only a few who could fly joined them. The Decepticons had drones that could drive and fly. Now you have Flail, a brawny grounder, Arcee, an acrobatic and agile grounder, and who ever this one turns out to be." He patted the copter's dash affectionately.

_The man has sense, _Primus complimented.

"Maybe," Jack admitted grudgingly. "But it's one thing to steal cars. How are we going to avoid a bunch of people shooting at us for violating airspace? And for that matter-_where the heck are we going to park this thing?_"

Vaccine and Mace looked at each other. "Well, crap."

* * *

They finally managed to land the copter far along the beach of a Tampa resort. Just as well, Vaccine pointed out. They were nearly out of fuel. Arcee and Flail met them there, tires kicking up clouds of sand before they transformed, optics gleaming with the anticipation of the birth of another sibling.

Primus once again summoned the power of life and Jack put his calloused hand over Vaccine's more delicate one. The light surged and a new Cybertronian was born.

He was blue and white with medium sized arms; smaller than Flail's but larger than Arcee's. His alt-mode's bottle-nosed front had split, forming sloped shoulder pads. His blades clipped neatly together like wings, settling down and out of the way. The tail formed slim legs peppered with the copter windows while the windshield formed over his chest. The rear blades trailed down his back like spikes, while yellow eyes glared down at the humans, ominous in the darkness.

Vaccine stepped forward as if in a trance. The mech leaned down, optics seeming to soften. The medic reached forward with a shaking hand as streams of data began to flow across his holographic lenses. The mech pressed his helm against the flesh, spikes rustling. A silent and quick conversation seemed to carry out before the mech opened his optics again and stood up, looking slightly less intimidating as he addressed the silent audience of humans and Cybertronians.

Straightening his back strut so he was ramrod straight, the mech saluted. "Sir, Witch Doctor reporting for duty, sir!" His voice had an islander accent, rumbling and smooth, but not as deep as Flail's.

Jack grinned. "Ready to kick Con-aft, Witch Doctor?"

Witch Doctor looked down at his partner. Vaccine smiled at him before saluting to Jack as well. "We're ready when you are Guardian."

Everyone else followed their movements.

Jack nodded before turning and looking out across the ocean. "We have a few more recruits to pick up first."

"Cleaver and Snipe?" Mace deduced before smirking. "I don't know about Snipe, but I know a few suggestions for Cleaver…"

* * *

**Now this is where the readers come in. I'm thinking about a form of pick-up thruck, but that seems too cliche. So I'm hoping for some other suggestions; I don't exactly attend auto-shows.**

**Cleaver's car has to be heavy-duty, large, with a moderate style. Please no SUV's!**

**Please Review!**


	14. Chapter 14

Jack and Arcee streaked across the dirt roads of North Carolina. The dust stained his jeans but Jack didn't care. There had never really been a deadline on their mission, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they were running out of time. Which is why he sent Mace, Flail, Vaccine, and the newly recruited Witch Doctor to Tennessee to retrieve Snipe, while he and Arcee retrieved Cleaver.

Mace had been bitterly disappointed that he wouldn't get to choose a partner for his friend but Jack assured him that he'd get a "cool" vehicle. Perhaps it was just as well they didn't bring Mace; Jack had caught him looking for auto shows in the eastern region.

"Bro."Arcee had taken to calling him that with gusto. Jack had simply sighed and went along. "We got a speed demon."

They had stopped at a red light ( apparently there were traffic rules in the near middle of nowhere) and beside them a flashy yellow car with black stripes pulled up alongside them, dust caked on it's expensive-looking tires. There wasn't a brand name, though Jack guessed it was a type of Camaro or Ubana. It seemed rather out of place here.

The car revved a challenge. Arcee's engine growled. "Come on, bro." she said eagerly. "I can choke his grill with his own dust."

"Arcee…"

The car revved again.

"Come on, Jack."

The light turned green.

"Oh, fin-aaaagggh!"

_Wait-_ Primus started to caution.

Arcee whooped as the pebbles kicked up like a wayward shower under her churning wheels. They leapt forward so fast, Jack could have sworn they teleported. They sped along the road as a blur, the wind seeming to split for them. They were like gods, gods of the road. Except…

Except the car seemed like a road god too. Because at the speeds Arcee could reach and maintain, no normal car driver should have been able to keep up with them, let alone overtake them. But this one had.

_Do you see the signal on his trunk? That's-_

_**The Autobot symbol.**_

_Yes. Wait a moment-_

Images came unbidden in his head. Shooting at Vehicons. Bragging to the green bot he called brother.

Then more. Agony as the silver Warlord tore out his throat. Anger at the pity shown to him by his comrades. Acceptance as the orange and white medic, his faceplate drawn in exhaustion, pain, and shame, told him his translators would never work again.

Bumblebee. Scout of the Autobots. Known best for his speed. And an apparent fan of racing the unwitting citizens of earth.

"Hey…" Arcee had apparently realized something was wrong. "He's…fast."

"Arcee!" Jack barked "Evasive maneuver!"

Arcee didn't question him. Tires squealing, she leapt of the main road unto a side one. Bumblebee fishtailed around and came after them, apparently having come to the same conclusions as Jack.

Arcee pushed her engine hard, Jack helping her keep her balance on the muddy roads. Bumblebee roared after them, dirt, pebbles, and mud shooting out behind them.

"Enough of this," Arcee snarled suddenly. "We're warriors of _Primus. We don't run._

Twisting around she transformed, sun gleaming off the expansion of soft protoform and strong armor. Jack leapt off her, rolling and coming to a crouch on the side of the road.

Standing tall and proud, Arcee glared at the Bumblebee, who'd come to a stop about ten yards away, still in vehicle mode. "What do you want?"

The scout transformed swiftly and glared back, blue optics narrowed, face guard set./I could ask the same/ he responded hostilely.

Arcee's glare melted into confusion. "What?"

/You heard me,/ the scout barked, or rather, chirped. /Who are you? You're not an Autobot./ He seemed to squint before remarking, somewhat grudgingly, /You don't seem to be a Decepticon either. But you're trespassing on Autobot protected space./ He puffed up importantly. /What is your designation?/

Jack heard it all perfectly. Arcee, apparently, did not. "…_What_?"

_It appears her language code in preset to English. The poor sparkling can only speak Cybertronian._

"He asked who were are, and what are we doing here," Jack translated.

"You understand him?"

/You understand me?/

"Yes. As to who we are," he turned to Bumblebee, "that's of no concern to you. "

/Uh, yeah./ the scout snapped back to attention. /Yeah, it is./

* * *

Mace roared down the streets of Tennessee, Flail's powerful engine snarling as the radio's rock song rattled his six hundred thousand dollar Cybertronian mystically enhanced frame. Vaccine and Witch Doctor thundered above, though one would be hard pressed to see them. Among the gifts given by Primus, a stealth skin was apparently included.

Mace couldn't wait to see Snipe. She was a pretty gal, with a tongue like poison. The girl everyone wanted, but couldn't have. The girl that Mace would have like to meet in his lifetime. Not that he was going to be making any advances or anything. She'd lost her brother less than a month ago; her twin as a matter of fact. She was probably still grieving.

"We're here, Flail announced, pulling up to a normal looking condo, and miraculously finding a place to park. Not an easy feat for the huge vehicle.

The condo had a large roof, allowing Witch Doctor to land. It was three stories, with Snipe on the third. Vaccine was waiting by her door, when Mace came up, three stairs at a time. He was pleased to find he wasn't the least out of breath.

"Ready?" Mace grinned at his thin friend. Vaccine merely nodded.

They knocked. A beat passed, before the door opened. A man with fiery red hair and broad shoulders stood in the doorway. He blinked at them in surprise.

"Henry? Leroy?" Alroy "Cleaver" McDonald scratched his head. "What are you two doing here?"

Mace looked at Vaccine. Vaccine looked at Mace. "_F***ck_."

* * *

Bumblebee had needed a break from the oppressive, depressive atmosphere of the base. So, he'd gone to the ground bridge, typed in a random set of coordinates, and sped off. The response to his departure, or lack therefore of, spoke volumes. Ratchet was too weary to even yell at him.

He'd wandered the roads for a few hours breaking several laws, trying to et rid of the anger, the despair. They were the last of their race, and it was all the Decepticon's fault. Fowler brought more and more depressing news each week: the government wanted too much of them, the 'Cons were getting bolder. Even the team was starting to get divided. Chromia and Elita-1 were going out of their way to avoid Ratchet, who in turn, was severely anxious yet also very nervous to talk to them about the little fact that they had the best chance of continuing their race. Sure the other mechs could carry, but Ratchet, Optimus, and Ironhide were the only Sires.

Besides, for a mech to carry required sparking, and no one wanted to connect so closely when there was a chance of that bond being severed at any time.

What they needed was a victory, some inspiration. And Bumblebee was sure that if this was a neutral, they could have some new firepower on their side.

The problem was the human.

This femme clearly saw her "bro" as her leader. And what was troubling was that the human understood him. The femme would insist on taking the human along, and Cybertronian, their one secret, their safe language, would be useless. You couldn't have a private conversation around government officials if the officials knew that someone could translate.

"Look, how about you just forget you saw us?" the femme was talking again-in human English, the primary language of this world. That too was troubling. How come she couldn't understand him? There was the chance her voice box was damaged like his, but then there were no scars. Now that he thought about it, he didn't see any scars _anywhere_. It was like she had just come from the Well.

This was fishy. Bumblebee decided it was best to let Ratchet and Optimus know about this.

/I'm going to have to ask you to come with me./

The human lifted his chin. "Why?"

/You're trespassing./ Bumblebee snapped.

"I don't see a sign," the human smirked at him, reclining against the femme's leg.

Bumblebee had enough. He cast his optics around, and spotted just of the road the remains of a construction site. One lone crane truck remained, almost invisible next to a pile of dirt. An enormous hole was on its other side. Uncasing his gun, he shot one bolt into the air, watching as it went into the hole. He looked smugly at the two troublemakers. /See that? Warning shot. You are now prisoners of the Autobots. Surrender quietly, or I may be forced to use lethal force./

What Bumblebee didn't know was how dangerous his "warning shot" was. The construction crew, had they decided to dig a little more the previous night, would have encountered an oval shape metal pod of a kind. This would have inevitably led to them tampering with it. _That_ would have led to a probable and very painful death.

As it was on a tiny tip of the pod had been unearthed-but that was enough. The plasma bolt hit its very peak. The pod's safety functions immediately activated. Identifying that it had been hit with a weapon of high heat, the pod's primary function's concluded that something was attempting to break in and damage its contents. And so, as it was programmed to do, the pod's stasis effect shut down, awakening the Insecticon inside.

The insecticon, seeing its pod was encased in dirt, immediately broke one side of its containment and tunneled the short distance to the surface, where the fresh air and unfamiliar surroundings gave it cause to open its mouth and let loose it's spine-chilling wailing roar.

Jack had been about to open his mouth in response to the scout's threat when the roar echoed over, and all turned to be greeted with the sight of the giant Insecticon glaring at them.

The Insecticon's excellent vision allowed it to see the Autobot symbol on Bumblebee's wing. It didn't see anything on the femme, but there wasn't a Decepticon symbol, and to its admittedly simple mind, that made the blue stranger as good as an Autobot.

Roaring, the giant bug thundered towards them on all fours. Seeing as his partner had frozen at the rushing attack, Jack seized her leg with his considerable strength and pulled, throwing her out of the Insecticon's path. Unfortunately, that put _him_ in its path. And the Insecticon, seeing as it had bigger scrapelets to crush, simply picked him up and hurled him over its shoulder.

Thanks to his Prime strength however, the impact of hitting the bottom of the pit hurt Jack about as much as a slap on the back. The fact that he'd landed on the roof of the crane truck (the Insecticon had knocked it into the pit in its scramble out) made no difference.

_The femme and the scout will be unable to defeat an Insecticon. Neither are skilled enough or strong enough either._

_**Then let's give them a hand.**_

His hands on the crane truck's roof, Jack felt the power surge. _**Transform….uh…uh**_

The Cybertronian, taller than Flail but slightly skinnier (but not as skinny as Witch Doctor) looked at him curiously. Its yellow armor shifted, and the long, arm-like constructs, each sporting a hook rustled as he struggled to speak. "Name…?" it finally managed.

Arcee came sliding down the sides on the side of the pit. "The scout's getting trashed up there…" she stopped. "Who's he?"

"Your brother."

"Name?"

"Can you help that Autobot out with us first?"

"Name."

"Now? Really?"

"Name."

"Oh for the love of-fine! Your name is…is…" Jack spotted a hat half buried in the dirt and snatched it up. "Your name is Steve."

Arcee stared at him. "Steve?"

"Yeah."

"I like Steve." The truck now known as Steve said happily.

"…_Steve_?"

"What? He likes it."

"Mace is going to kill you."

"If we don't help Mr. Spots Car, his Autobuddies will kill us first."

* * *

**Okay. So the idea of the crane truck was that of MVPredicon, but that is **_**not Cleaver's partner**_**. His strategic value is high though. I decided thanks to Foxbear, to stick with a pick-up truck because, to paraphrase, clichés become clichés for a reason. But I'm thinking of using either a classic Dodge Charger or a Chrysler 300 for Snipe. You decide.**


	15. Chapter 15

The insecticon, seeing a new challenge, released its ear-splitting wail and lumbered forward,its speed surprising and terrifying.

The newly christened Steve responded with a yell of his own and rushed forward in a heroic charge-only to be not so heroically backhanded across the faceplate.

"Oww!"

"…Well, then." Arcee shook her head. "That's what happens when you have a name like _Steve_."

"Will you quit about the name!" Jack launched himself forward and in an amazing display of overrated, eye-raising awesomeness, smashed his fist into the Insecticon's mouth.

The Insecticon literally flew, landing in heap outside the pit. It screeched in rage and pain, energon dripping out though shattered dentas.

/How-/ Bumblebee had pulled himself up in time to see Jack do what he shouldn't have been able to do. /How did you do that?/ He pointed his blasters at Jack. /What _are_ you? /he demanded.

"Hey, now." Arcee unsheathed a pistol. "The enemy is the ugly one."

The enemy in question now leapt up into the air, transforming into a vicious, beetle-like creature. It buzzed forward angrily, like a hive of bees solidified into a solid form.

Steve rushed forward again, the arms on his back twisting. "Oh, no you don't!" One crane arm shot forward, releasing its hooked end. The hook sailed through the air, trailing a line of powerful wire. It looped around the Insecticon and went taut. The second joined it swiftly.

Unfortunately for Steve, his extra appendages may have been great for seizing smaller opponents or smashing the hooks into his enemies to stun them or to gain extra space to fight. It was not that great for larger opponents and despite being almost as tall as Flail, he was still a head or two shorter than the Insecticon. And despite being designed to hold enemies and reel them in, it wasn't much against opponents who could fly.

This is how Steve, less than ten minutes old and already sporting a battle scar on his face (it was more of a scratch; and less than a centimeter long), ended up on the first flight of his young life.

"Help!"

Had he more experience, Steve may have thought to reel _himsel_f in and then attack the beast with his yet-to-be-discovered drill or perhaps his powerful jackhammer, or better yet paralyze it with the devastating pile-driver. But he didn't and it was a panicked youngster, fresh into battle, who appealed to his bemused sister and demigod brother watching him rise.

"Oh bother," Arcee sighed, unsheathing her other blaster and firing into the air at the rage filled beast.

"Um, Arcee?" Jack ventured tentavely. "Maybe you shouldn't-"

But Arcee was an inadvertent crack-shot, and one of her bolts ended up hitting the Insecticon right in the face. With a shriek, it twisted violently, dislodging the hooks twisted around it. With a similar shriek, Steve began to fall.

/Scrap. / murmured the yellow scout.

Jack raced forward. "Steve, transform!" he barked.

Steve complied, twisting in midair into his crane truck form. Jack caught him with both hands, bending his knees to absorb the shock before diving out of the way of the crash landing Insecticon. The creature transformed on impact tearing several ligaments. It staggered to its pedes once more, its screech unceasing.

"Doesn't this thing give up?" Arcee grunted, skipping to the side in an attempt to split its targets.

Steve transformed and turned to Bumblebee. "Aren't you going to help?"

The Autobot glared at him. /You all seem to have under control./

Steve may not have understood him, but he recognized that the scout wasn't going to help for whatever stupid reason. So the mech responded by picking the scout up and throwing him at the Insecticon. The Insecticon responded by seizing him out of the air and hurling him back. Arcee added her own two cents by using the airborne scout's face as a springboard to hurl herself firing over the beast's head. And Jack, stepping out of the way of the Autobot's crash landing, scowled and growled, "Enough of this!"

Slamming his palm into the ground, Jack brought it slowly up, power crackling from his palm to the ground. Shards of metal, some the size of dust, others as large as rock, tore themselves from the depths of the earth and floated in the air to form an enormous spear. When the Insecticon charged at the glowing energy source, Jack hurled the weapon at it with a motion of his hand.

The weapon, charged with the power of Primus, tore into the beast like its armor was paper. Half-way through its body, the spear exploded, heat and energy and shrapnel tearing the Insecticon apart from the inside out.

Arcee, Steve and Jack dove aside, avoiding the onslaught of flaming energon and metal and body parts. Bumblebee wasn't so lucky and was head-butted by the Insecticon's flying helm as well as part of its shoulder.

Arcee blinked at the sight. "Why couldn't you do that earlier?" she asked, turning to her organic brother.

"Didn't know I could," Jack admitted. "I just wanted a weapon, something to take that thing down."

/What. Are. You?/ The Autobot scout practically screamed. He was clutching his helm, and staggering to his feet.

Jack opened her mouth to answer, but pasued. A new sound split the country side. It sounded like…jets?

Bumblebee's optics widened. /Vehicons! /

"Vehicons?" Jack echoed. "What are those?"

**Megatron's troops**, Primus hissed. **No doubt they picked up on the Insecticons signal. They are coming. We should flee!**

_**Understood,**_ Jack responded. Out loud he ordered, "Arcee, Steve! Transform! Roll out and retreat!"

/ Wait. You're running? /

"You seem to have it under control," Jack shot back, climbing onto Arcee.

Bumblebee aimed his blasters at the approaching Vehicons with one servo, while touching the side of his head with the other. / Bumblebee to base. Requesting a ground bridge. /

Jack and company sped off. But before they were out of sight, Jack saw a multicolored portal flare to life and watched as the Autobot leapt through it.

"Huh." Steve remarked thoughtfully as the dirt churned behind them. "We need to get us one of those."

**Indeed**, Primus murmured, just as thoughtfully. **Indeed we do.**

* * *

Witch Doctor allowed his senses to flash over each block within a five block radius. Streams of data-texts, videos, uploads, downloads- were filtered through his processor rapidly. Potential viruses were dissolved, and important information-especially those pertaining to medical practices- were separated, cleansed, and stored away.

It was a very relaxing moment.

"How much longer are they going to be?" Flail whined from his spot on the ground.

So much for relaxing…

Witch Doctor did not bother to answer, instead resuming his scans, drawing his sensors out. When he reached three miles, he froze. A Cybertronian signal, and not one of theirs, coming in fast. Quickly hacking into the traffic cameras, he saw a fancy red sports car speeding towards their location.

How had they been found? Quickly he drew his scanners in. Where was it, where was-ah!

There, on Flail's back left wheel, was a small tracker.

Cursing, he swiftly transformed and leapt of the roof of the building, sending dozens of humans screaming and running. Mentally disabling security cameras all around him, he shouted out for Flail to transform.

"Witch? What-?"

"Transform! Now!"

Flail complied, and just in time. The sports car swerved around the corner, transforming in while in movement. He skid to a stop a few car-lengths away from the brothers.

"Hello, big boy," Knockout purred to Flail. "Megatron's a bit unhappy right now. So I thought a new, strong handsome mech recruit might cheer him up! Not that your friends bad looking either," he smirked, looking Witch Doctor up and down.

"He's my brother," Flail snarled, readying his flail.

Knockout licked his lips, prod out and ready. "Even better," he said, charging forward.

* * *

**Please Review!**


	16. Chapter 16

"Bullshit!"

Mace winced as Snipes eyes bored hatefully into his. "Look I know it seems a bit crazy, but look at these!" He stuck out his gleaming arms. "You can't buy these at Wal-mart."

Snipe seized one of them. "They have to be painted," she snarled, raking his nails down the length of his flesh. Mace yelped, more out of surprise than pain.

Vaccine shoved his himself away from the wall. "For christ's sake, Ronny. How do you explain this?" He tapped his cybernetic eye lens meaningfully.

Snipe scowled, releasing her hold on the apprehensive Mace. "Suit tech. I remember what was in that desert. I remember what those suits tried to at the hospital. They tried to convince me what I saw-what we saw-was all false, all fake." Her eyes blazed with anger, as well as something darker, something crueler. Obsession. "But I know what killed Vernon. I know what I saw."

"You believe that you saw giant robots kill Quickshot, but you won't believe that a giant robot god gave Guardian god powers."

"You got that PhD somehow."

A chorus of screaming made everyone turn to the window. Cleaver, who until now had been silent, strode to the window, and peered through the dusty blinds. His hand drifted to his waist.

"What is it?" Snipe's hand reached towards her own waist, grasping for the weapon that wasn't there.

Cleaver turned towards the group, his green eyes wide. "Henry? Leroy?" he asked carefully. "Those robots you brought to life-was one of them big and black? And have a big ball of spikes of his hand?"

Mace's eyes shot open wide. "Yes!"

A huge crash, forced Cleaver to whip back around to peer out. "Does he normally dump garbage trucks on other robots?"

"No..."

* * *

Knockout wasted no time in further pleasantries. Launching himself forward, his prod crackled in delight as it whipped towards Witch Doctor. The copter leaned out of the way, nearly stumbling into a building. Knockout pressed forward, the devastating weapon missing the neutral by inches.

The sound of tearing metal ripped through the air, and then something was falling from the sky, blotting out the sun behind the vain medic. Knockout turned, puzzled. "What-"

CRUNCH!

A foul smelling vehicle crashed into the red mech, pinning him to the ground. He lifted his head and stared at the filthy truck and the horrid mixture of mysterious fluids, soggy paper, broken glass, and rotten organic substances oozing over his beautiful paint job.

Flail rushed towards him, intending to pound the stuck Decepticon into the ground. Knockout squealed, "Breakdown!"

A blue blur smashed into Witch doctor from the side, sending him spinning around and to the side. Before he crashed into the pavement, Witch Doctor, glimpsed the aforementioned Breakdown, smashing into Flail. And then he hit the ground, and his arm hit the side of a building, shattering the windows. He slid to a stop after decimating several thin, city trees.

Looking up groggily, his optics focused on a brunette staring at him in horror, while clutching a young boy with bright red hair. For a moment a rock seemed to send his spark plummeting into the ground beneath him. Had he hurt someone? He paused, waiting to feel the warm liquid spreading over his armor, but he felt nothing. He exhaled through his vents in relief; the humans were just shocked.

Offering them an awkward smile, he pushed himself up. As he did so, the red-headed boy cried out, pointing over Witch Doctor's shoulder. "Look, mommy! A-Bomb!"

Witch Doctor stumbled his feet, pushing out his senses for an explosive device. To his confusion, he felt nothing. Then the boy's word penetrated and search pulled up an image of a blue skinned superhero. Not _a bomb_, he realized. _A-Bomb._

He scowled fiercely. "Kid, that's no hero."

"Oh my God!" shrieked the boy's mother, who had been staring slack-jawed at him. "It talks!"

Witch Doctor frowned deeply. "Lady, that's just insulting."

"Come on, Tommy!"

"I want to see A-Bomb!"

Warnings went off in his head, and he launched himself forward, scooping up the boy and his mother, and diving out of the way. And not a moment to soon. Flail, now sporting a painful looking dent on his arm, crashed into the place where the trio had stood not a moment before, decimating the building.

"Witch Doctor!"

"Flail!"

Flail shook his helm. "Mace!" His partner stood on the roof of the apartment building where Witch Doctor had parked.

Breakdown roared and rushed the prone form of Flail. Mace leapt from the roof, landing on Breakdown's helm. The blue 'Con reared like a bull, throwing his back forward and helm back. Mace hung on, raising a silver fist. He pounded it into Breakdown's helm once, twice, three times. Breakdown swayed, stumbled, and then keeled over, falling unconscious on his face. Mace leapt clear, landing beside his partner.

"Breakdown!" Knockout stopped over the fallen body of his comrade, taking in the damage. His red optics widened. "How did you do that?" he demanded.

"Like this!" Flail snarled leaping forward, only to fall to his knees in mid-charge, howling in agony.

Witch Doctor didn't have time to reach him before he too was suddenly on the ground once again. His audio receptors felt as if they were being ripped from his helm, slowly and roughly. Shuttering his pain-filled optics, he could see Mace and Vaccine on the ground as well, and several other civilians were unconscious in the streets, blood all over their faces. Some type of sound-based weapon then, the part of him that wasn't on the verge of passing out thought.

A tall dark mech walked into view, seemingly out of nowhere. He was very thin, with angular limbs and seemingly delicate servos and digits. His shoulders rose even above his helm. What was most shocking was the lack of face. The only thing where his faceplate should have been was a sort of all-covering visor.

The mysterious mech raised his arm, and Flail roared in pain again, before going limp. Mace yelled out in pain, both in his own and his partner's.

"Witch!" Witch Doctor shook his helm and glanced to the side where Vaccine had a hand on his arm. "I'm picking up firewalls on that guy." He nodded and the mech which Knockout was blubbering to. "You think we can hack him?"

"Worth a try." Gritting his dentas, Witch Doctor closed his optics, forcing his processor to ignore the pain and reach out. The firewalls of the mech were extreme. He was obviously a hacker himself. But Witch Doctor's very mind and frame had been forged by the power of Primus, the god which created the ancients of Cybertron, and that tech was far superior to the neo-technological advances the dead planet had ended with.

The firewalls put up a fight, but Witch Doctor dismantled them almost effortlessly. Vaccine was there as well; as the mech, whose designation was revealed to be Soundwave, turned towards the disturbance, Vaccine branched off into his processor, into the very systems which controlled the nerves, paralyzing the silent giant. A Cybertronian mind, both realized was not much different than that of a human's. While a Cybertronian may boast to have a more superior mind, the truth was that their minds were more like computers, able to run through many applications at once. The human mind could not do that, but it had more of a connection to other minds and the world around it; thus, instances of telepathy between twins and cases where humans possessed instances of mind over matter. A Cybertronian set of twins simply had better a connection to each other due to the fact that they came from split sparks-they were very similar cases of code with only minor differences. So when an outside source, say an attack, encountered one set, the second responded, albeit slightly differently.

It was this familiarity with his own mind that allowed Vaccine to disable Soundwave's systems, casing the Decepticon to shut down. And the understanding of his partner's mind allowed Witch Doctor to tear into the juiciest secrets the mech had to offer. Contingency plans, attack moves, biographies, passwords, surveillance-all of it taken, analyzed, and copied in an instant. The entire mind attack took little more than a few moments, but the information gained was priceless.

They pulled out of his mind simultaneously, returning to the real world. Vaccine stumbled backwards, his hand flying up to clutch his head. "Whoa." He stumbled, but was righted by Witch Doctor. "That was intense."

Witch Doctor nodded. "Indeed," he agreed. He looked around at the people in the street, some who were starting to groan and blink groggily. Flail himself was beginning to shift at the feet of a stunned looking Knockout.

"What did you do?" he whined, looking quite pathetic with trash all over him and a rotten smell wafting up to boot.

"This!" Taking a running charge, Witch Doctor leapt up and kicked the red mech in the chest with both pedes. Stumbling on landing, the helicopter regained his footing and scooped up Knockout's forgotten electric prod, jabbing it into the vain medic's neck cables. Knockout jerked and seized, before collapsing just as Flail began to raise himself up.

Witch Doctor seized his arm, and pulled him to his unsteady pedes. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. Feeling like I got hammered and then having my helm about to explode has left me with a just chipper feeling,"

Vaccine gave him a look over with his lens. "He's fine. No lasting damage to the audio receptors and with the proper equipment we can get those dents buffed out."

Flail looked around, having suddenly remembered something. "Mace?" At the sound of his name, the soldier in question moaned. The Evade truck lumbered over and gently picked him up. "Where's the girl we're supposed to get?"

Vaccine's eyes widened. "Damn!" in all the excitement, he'd forgotten about Snipe and Cleaver. Leaping up he scaled the building like a spider, and disappeared over the edge. A moment later he reappeared and dropped down three stories with a Cleaver and Snipe draped over each shoulder. Unlike the concrete cracking landings of Mace and Guardian, Vaccine landed gracefully, bending his knees to absorb the impact and lifting himself up gratefully. "Flail, transform. It's time to get out of here."

Flail did as ordered, transforming so that his partner rest securely in the passenger seat. Sirens could be heard in the distance. "What about the Decepticons?"

Vaccine dumped Cleaver and Snipe in back seat and climbed into the driver seat. "With luck, the cops can get the civilians moved before Knockout wakes up."

"Just him? What about Slender's cousin by way of Africa?"

Vaccine glanced at the motionless Soundwave still crumbled in the street. "I don't think he'll be waking up for a while," he said, closing Flail's door.

* * *

**A time to respond to a few questions:**

**Miko and Raf: In this series, only one will make an appearance, and they'll be affected by time just like Jack.**

**Knockout: Knockout is such a fun character to write. He's always whining about something. As for his apparent fascination with Flail, I think that Knockout sees himself as a somewhat delicate and cunning. Thus, he keeps Breakdown around, because he's drawn to strength. At the same time, he wants to be dominate, so he preys on femmes as well, because on Cybertron, femmes were the minority and didn't have the voice needed to defend themselves on a male-dominated planet. Knockout's ideals stem from that, being the stereotypical male. In the end, he doesn't care as long as he gets his-ahem-needs full-filled.**

**Also, there won't be a relic race in this fic, therefore, Soundwave has the ****Resonance Blaster. Plus it fits him.**

**Review Please!**


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